Royal Flush
by Enchantable
Summary: Based off of the Syfy Channel's Alice. Jack's struggling with his duties. Duchess comes to give him a parting gift. In spite of all that has happened, is either really ready to let the other go?
1. Chapter 1

**Okay so I LOVED Alice. Not as much as I loved Tin Man, but loved it none the less. I wanted quite badly to do a Alice/Hatter fic but as I was writing I realized that there was something I wanted to write more: Jack/Duchess.**

**I know! I think its because Alice and Hatter had such a GREAT romantic scene but there was just so much wasted potential with Jack. So I had to write something. Now i've taken some, um, liberties with past events and what exactly was meant by the phrase "my mother's creation". I was intrigued by the notion of a lifelong love between the two and what, exactly, drove Jack to the breaking point with his going to the other World.**

**Oh and the Club is Ten, he's the one whose the big important Club whose with Jack at the end. And as of right now Duchess is her name, not simply her title...since, you know, thats what everyone calls her. **

**So yeah, enjoy!**

* * *

Jack Frederick Heart had always considered himself a Prince.

Both in the literal and figural sense. He had been born a Prince, born in all the splendor and fantasy the corrupted Wonderland could offer its ruling family. He'd been born to it and, for a time, he had loved it. It was hard not to love being a Prince, no matter how he had gotten there. After all, how could one be expected to hate what they did not understand? And he had not understood what made him into a Prince, only that he was one. It was not until his eyes had been open that he had realized the title was more than just what he was. It was a promise for what he would one day become.

He had just never thought he would be King quite so soon.

Or under such circumstances.

Standing in the makeshift Throne Room, Jack looked at the papers spread in front of him. His mother had been somewhat less than meticulous with her record keeping and making sense of it was proving to be somewhat difficult. Reaching for the tie at his throat, he loosened it as he looked at the numbers. His blazer was over the chair behind him, the bright red color lurid in the otherwise monotone room. Despite the knowledge that it was anything but good, Jack wouldn't help but wish there was some "hard thinking" tea somewhere in Wonderland. But no, there was no more Tea in Wonderland and, of course, that was exactly what the failing economy had depended on. It was the right thing to do, he _knew_ that, but it was difficult to think of what they could possibly do to turn the economy of Wonderland around.

"Your Majesty," he looked up, surprised to see the Ten of Clubs standing there, "my apologies for interrupting but the Duchess has requested an audience with you."

"Send her in," he said, turning around and picking up the blazer, pulling the symbol of his rank on.

Ten bowed deeply before turning around, opening the doors. Despite the knowledge of everything that had happened, Jack felt his heart stutter at the sight of her. His mother had not been lying when she had said the Duchess was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. She truly was. Especially now, stripped of the glitz and glamour she wore so well. Her dress was still snug but the royal blue color was somehow less jarring than the gold metallic creation she had worn. Her blond hair was less high, softening her appearance even more. Of course there was still glamour in her, in the deep colors that lined her eyes and the bright ones that shimmered on her lips. When she moved forward, it was with the impossible grace he had come to almost expect from the woman.

"Duchess," Jack said, moving around the table.

"Majesty," she said, curtseying to him.

She walked forward until she stood right before him and extended a hand. She could smell the perfume she wore, the scent still intoxicating. He knew he should not be affect by anything, by any facet of the woman in front of him, but he had always known the smell of her perfume. He had smelled it the first time that she had stood in front of him and he had smelled it the last time he had hugged her. She hadn't worn the same perfume for so many years, but she knew that this had always been his favorite of her scents. Jack swallowed thickly as he looked at her, trying to maintain control of himself. Opening her palm she revealed the prize. It was a key, a small gold key--the kind that would be used to open a safe or lock box.

"Your father slipped me this before he elected to remain behind," she said, "it opens his records--his _real_ records, the ones that he hid from your mother," she looked over at the papers spread behind him, "I thought they would be useful."

"They will be," Jack said reaching out and picking up the key, "thank you."

"Of course," Duchess replied withdrawing her hand. Jack looked at the key before raising his eyes to the woman in front of him, "there is one other thing," she began. He looked at her, puzzled, "I'm leaving, in the morning."

Jack stared at her, stunned. He had no idea she was even considering leaving, much less that she was actually going to do it. Things had been so chaotic in the short time since the loss of so much, but he had not known that she was unhappy enough to leave. Assuming his silence was something else, a confirmation perhaps, the Duchess turned around. Jack stared at her. Though one of her more modest ones, the dress was undoubtably hers. It was completely backless, revealing almost the entirety of her creme colored back. For some strange reason, he found it amusing that she was dressed as she was, before he immediately wondered why it was the least bit strange. It was how she had _always_ dressed, at least, always since they were teenagers. Then her words registered and he stepped forward.

"What do you mean, you're leaving?" he demanded.

"I'm leaving," she repeated.

"Yes, I heard that, but _why_?" he questioned.

Duchess froze, shocked that he would even ask such a thing. Did he really not know why she would not want to be there? She had always considered him slightly naive, a idealist even, but she had never thought of him as outright stupid. Still if he was that shocked she was going to have to reassess Wonderland's new King. Even so, that did not stop her from giving him an explanation to his question.

"Why?" she took a deep breath and turned around, "you asked another woman to marry you. You think I'm just your mother's creation. You don't love me," she looked at him without an ounce of shame in her gaze, "I can continue, if you would like more reasons."

"No," he said finally, realizing that she was right, "you are free to go."

"Free to go?" she looked at him, offense in her eyes, "have you nothing to say?"

"What would you like me to say?" he questioned, "I did ask another woman--one I care very deeply about--to marry me. You are my mother's creation, we both know that. And you are right," he looked away for a second before he looked at her, "I do not love you."

Duchess nodded but her features remained completely serene. Alice always shifted, sometimes she bit her lip as well and she always looked at a person, trying to search out everything they were when she was upset. But not the Duchess. She simply looked at him, her hands didn't fidget and her lipstick remained unmarred by teeth. She was perfectly composed. Jack found it somehow both infuriating and enthralling. Though he had always found cracks in her perfect composure. There had even been times when he had made a game of trying to shatter it. Of course she usually wound up winning, no matter what he did. But now, try as he might, he could not see the hints of the woman that perfect facade hid. He had always been able to see them but now he could not and, for some reason he could not understand, he felt saddened by the fact.

"Then I will leave," she said, "there is no reason for me to stay."

"No," he said finally, "I suppose there is not," he looked down at his hand, "thank you, for this. If there is any other thing you can remember--"

"I will contact the Suits right away," she said. Jack nodded, "well then, goodbye Duchess."

"Majesty," she curtsied once more before she turned around. Before she took a step, she turned back towards him, "may I ask you something? You left two days after you asked me to marry you. Why?"

"Does it matter?" he asked.

"Yes," she said.

"I left two days after I asked you to marry me" he began, "because I _saw_ you with my mother."

"You saw me--" Duchess trailed off, realizing with a dull thud of horror what he was saying,

"I heard you," Jack continued, "I heard you tell her when I had left and for how long. I witness her giving you that--" he stopped angrily, "and I knew that you had never cared for me, only for my mother," she looked down, "I could not believe that it was you, that _you_ were the person who had fed her that information. You who I thought I could trust above all others, you who I--" he broke off, "it doesn't matter. The Queen is as good as dead, you may come and go as you wish."

Duchess opened her mouth at his angry words. She could see the hurt on his face and she knew that she truly had betrayed him. Even if it was not as simple as he made it wound, she knew that at the moment he wouldn't hear what she was saying. He wouldn't care what she had really done--more importantly _why_ she had done it. All he saw was the betrayal. A part of her wished that she was a different woman, that she was more like the kind of woman who would whisper soothing words or, at the very least, would leave the room with her lot. But she was not the kind of woman to do such a thing. Despite the fact the new King had bid her farewell and turned his back, both the literal and figurative, on her.

"I did what I needed to do to survive," she said, her voice steady, "someone had to stay behind, with the Queen, with the Court. Not all of us can be Alice."

"No," Jack said turning around, "not all of us can be heroes," Duchess felt anger rise in her at his dismissive tone.

"No," she agreed, her eyes sweeping his form, "not all of us can be."

"What are you saying?" his questioned, his tone edged.

"As if anything I say could make a difference to you," she said, her temper overshadowing her control, "you have made up your mind and I know how stubborn you can be."

Jack stepped forward, one of his hands locking around her arm. Her eyes widened at the touch. Her arm moved back but the effort was half hearted if anything. She knew his touch, knew it far more intimately than just a hand on her fabric covered arm. He looked down at her, his eyes shining with the same passion, the same fire that she had seen when he truly believed in something. When he had something to fight for. All that Jack Frederick Heart had ever really needed was something to believe in. The thing that saddened her, however, was the fact that he didn't really believe in her.

"Why should I change my mind about you?" he demanded, "after everything you've done, what could possibly change my mind about you?"

"I did rescue you," she said.

"You betrayed me before that," he replied.

"And you ran!" she cried.

Her tone shocked the both of them. His hand fell to his side as one of hers flew up to cover her mouth. For a moment she thought she would be sick--sick or that she would burst into tears. But she reigned her wild emotions in, stuffing them down as far as she could. She could weep later, in the privacy of wherever she went off to next. Jack seemed stunned at her angry words. She didn't think that anyone had shouted at him about his disappearance, everyone hailing him as the one who was brave enough to leave and take the ring with them. She was glad for that, really she was, but it did not change the fact that that was what he had done.

"I had to run," he said, "for the resistance. I had to find Alice."

"I know that," she said, her voice far less steady than she would have liked, "I did not mean to impl--"

"What did they do to you?" she looked at him. Jack felt his stomach drop, "Duchess," he stepped forward, "what did my _mother_ do to you when I left?"

"It does not matter," she said, taking a step back, "it is not important."

The fear in her eyes was enough to make him consider backing off. But it confirmed his worst fear--a fear he had not even realized he held until he saw it naked on her face. His mother had punished _her_ for him leaving. They had been sharing a room for two months under his mother's insistence, a situation he had found nothing wrong with at the time. But he had disappeared in the middle of the night and he knew that the last place anyone had truly seen him was going into their room. That made her the most suspicious person, even if she was the product of his mother's whims. He knew that would not be enough to stop his mother, especially not if she was truly angry--as he knew she would have been when his theft of the Ring was discovered.

"What happened?" he demanded, unable to keep the edge out of his voice.

"I told you it does not matter!" she said, her voice rising as her control vanished completely.

"The Truth Room," Jack realized aloud. Duchess closed her eyes, turning her face away, "she sent you there," he stepped forward, "because of what I did, because of _my_ disappearance, she punished you."

"I was the last to see you," Duchess whispered, her voice choked.

"I--" Jack stopped, running a hand over his face, "God I'm so sorry," he shook his head, "I had no idea."

"That was the point," Duchess said taking a deep breath, running her hands over her skirt before reaching up to swipe a ruby painted thumbnail under each eye, "it does not matter. I did not know where you went and your mother realized that if you came back I would be more valuable alive," Jack opened his mouth but she shook her head, "it was not your mouth that sent me there."

"No," he said, "only my actions."

"Actions that were necessary," she said, "for Wonderland," she exhaled, "well that is enough truth for today," she looked up at him, "goodbye Your Majest--" she stopped.

His hand locked around her upper arm.

He looked down at her, desperate, confused--a thousand things that he could not completely name. His fingers tightened around her upper arm as he tried to figure out if she was telling the truth. She had no reason to lie. What was more, she was very _very_ good at lying. Yet her control was shattered. Somehow he did not find that amusing. It was no game, she truly was afraid of what had been done to her. And there was only one thing that did that to people: the Truth Room. Suddenly he wanted to kill his mother, even more than he had before. But there was nothing in her face that said she wanted to stay there. Nothing that said she held even an ounce of trust for him.

"Wait," he began, his voice low.

"If you mean what you said," she said looking up at him, "and I truly am free to go," she looked at his hand, "then let me."

"Of course," he said, stepping back, "my sincerest apologies."

She nodded and matched his actions, stepping away from him.

"Goodbye, Your Majesty," she said.

Then she turned on her heel and walked out of the room. Jack watched her leave but he could not find it in himself to stop her departure. His fingers curled around the key in his hands as the doors closed behind her. Part of him wanted nothing more than to run after her, to stop her and make her see that he truly was sorry. But just as large a part of him told him that it was the way things had to be. He had to let her go. She was a product of his mother's warped mind, nothing more. Everything they had, everything they were was little more than a lie. So, in true Heart-men fashion, he did nothing. Just stood there, as his father had done for so many years next to his mother. The Duchess truly was leaving and, much to his chagrin, Jack realized that he would have cut his own arm off just to hear her call him 'Jack' one final time.

"Your Majesty," Ten walked in with a sweeping bow.

"Now's not a good time," Jack said.

"Yes, Your Majesty, the Kingdom rarely waits for times of convenience," Ten said. Jack glared at him, "acting on your orders, Majesty," the Suite reminded him hastily.

It was true. Jack had ordered the members of the Court to tell him when something was wrong. Especially when it was with him. He knew that Wonderland needed a drastic change and he was determined to be that. Unfortunately it was proving difficult, a fact not helped in the slightest by his two year absence from Court. He looked over at the Club and nodded.

"Sorry, yes, what is it?" he asked.

"It is the records, Majesty. We seem to have located a bank vault in your father's name but the Bank wishes to speak to you if they are to open it without a key."

"Key--" Jack looked at his hand, "I have the key," he held it out to Ten, "here," he said offering it to the Club.

"Majesty!" Ten gasped, "this is--this is wonderful," he looked at Jack, "where did you get it?"

"Duchess," he said slowly looking at the doors.

"Well this is excellent news," he said, "it will make things far simpler," he trailed off, looking at the doors, "Majesty?" he inquired.

"I--" he stopped and looked at the Club, "did my mother send Duchess to the Truth Room?" he asked.

"Yes," Ten replied, "he did," Jack looked at him sharply, "but only for a little while," Ten added quickly, "she did recover quite quickly, refused to say anything about you before or after," Jack said nothing, "if I may be so bold, Majesty, she does care about you a great deal," Jack looked at him, "and it seems you reciprocate her feelings?"

"My feelings are no longer my main concern," Jack said stiffly, walking back around the desk, "I must think of what is good for the people as well."

"Yes, yes of course," Ten said, "but, if I may, Duchess is rather well schooled in the workings of Court--and the Court members. A grand rebellion is good--necessary even--but if you want to continue perhaps it requires a--shall we say _finer_ touch?"

"Its not that simple," Jack said.

"Matters of the heart rarely are," Ten replied, "just look at your father."

Jack wished his words did not make as much sense as they did. His father had been a less than exceptional man, especially when it came to matters of the heart. While Jack wouldn't say that he was an evil man, he did find his father to be the personification of the saying "all evil needs to triumph is for good men to do nothing". He had sworn that he would never be like his father--any more than he would marry a woman like his mother. In spite of Duchess's noble actions at the end, he still didn't know how much he could trust her. He _knew_ that and yet he was finding it very hard to justify letting her leave. Perhaps it was their history, or maybe it was something else entirely but a part of him would always care about her.

Always.

He didn't know what it was. He had thought he loved Alice. But Duchess had always been in the back of his mind. She had not been simply created. At one point she had been a girl. A stiff, prim girl he had thought had all the nasty things boys thought girls had when they were young, but a girl none the less. And his mother had taken delight in crafting the perfect spy, right under his nose. He hadn't been any wiser, not when they had kissed for the first time when they were teenagers, not when he had blurted out his true feelings after the first time he got injured in a fight. Not even when he had summoned up the courage to ask her to become first a Princess and then a Queen. He had always understood, in some deep part of himself that his mother was evil. But it was her betrayal that had really been the last straw, her betrayal that hurt the worst.

He had watched Hatter follow his heart a few days ago. Moments after Alice had gone back through the Looking Glass, the tea shop owner had backed up and flung himself through the Glass. Guards had wanted to go after him but Jack had stopped them. Alice had told her she wanted something else and, as he watched that something else's bootsoles vanish through the Glass, he knew that he, at the very least, owed her that. There was no sense to Hatter's actions, no rhyme and certainly reason. And yet he had done them. Jack hated to think that there was anything he could have learned from the Hatter--who he was quite sure was mad--but he realized that there was.

"Oh God," he pressed a hand to his forehead, "I've made a terrible mistake," he pushed himself off the desk he'd been leaning on, "she's gone--have your Suits see if anyone saw where she went--"

"I overheard Duchess speaking of leaving," he said, "so I took the liberty of 'misplacing' this," he said holding out an earring clasped between two fingers, the gold disk spinning to catch the light, "your Majesty's last birthday gift to the Duchess, I believe," he said, "she has spoken of them being her favorite piece of jewelry numerous times and I do not think she would simply leave without it."

"Brilliant," he said turning around and taking the earring from him. Turning back towards the door he stopped and turned around once again, "lets, ah, keep the 'misplacement' between us."

"Of course, Majesty," he said. Jack nodded and turned around, walking back to the door, "oh and, ah, Majesty?" he looked at him, "Suits reported her heading for her room--" Jack nodded reaching out for the door, "Majesty, one more thing?"

"Ten--" he began, "if I don't go now--"

"Good luck," the Club said with a smile on his face.

"Thanks," Jack said, "I think I'm going to need it."

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**Okay so Part 2 should be out soon!  
**

**In the meantime, please review! **


	2. Chapter 2

Jack hurried down the hallway, nodding to the various people he passed along the way.

Stopping outside the door to the Duchess's room, he could only pray that he was not too late. Raising a hand he knocked on the door.

"Duchess?"

He heard someone moving around in the room. Hope flared in him, with any luck--not that he had lot of that--it was her in there looking for her missing earring. He clenched the thing in his hand as he waited for a moment. Taking a deep breath, he waited. Either he was too late and someone else had already occupied the space or he was not and she simply did not want to talk to him. Raising his hand he knocked again, praying against hope that she was simply too busy to notice his knock. Sure enough he was rewarded a moment later.

"What?!" she demanded loudly, her voice high and upset.

"Its me," Jack said.

"Oh--_oh,_" he heard her move across what had to be an incredibly messy room before the door was yanked open, "Majesty," she curtsied to him, her features schooled to blankness.

But there was the vestiges of emotions on her face. Red in her eyes, dried tears on her face. Her lipstick was marred as well. His eyes searched her face and the skin that he could see, looking for any sort of physical evidence of what had been done to her. But he could see none. If there were scars--and there always were--she was more than adapt at hiding them from plain sight. His eyes finally settled on her face, his hand seamlessly depositing the other earring in his pocket. She was wearing one earring, the other missing from her earlobe. Still despite knowing that emotion was on her face, she met his gaze with more control than he would have thought possible.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I was just getting the last of my things," she said, "I will be gone soon."

"Of course," he said.

"Is there something you need?" Duchess asked looking at him, confusion flitting across her face.

"Yes," Jack said, stopping there.

Duchess stared at him. He seemed so unsure of himself, not something she was used to seeing from the Prince--now King. She was usually more than adapt at reading him, but this time the emotion was naked on his face. Duchess felt concern surge through her. What could have affected him so much that he would show emotion so easily? She couldn't think that his time in the other World had really changed him that much. She looked at him carefully, trying to see what he was thinking. But it was very hard to do, as if he wanted no-one to see what was really going on in his head.

"Is something wrong?" she asked looking at him, "did something happen--"

"No, ah," he stopped, "I'm not--" he stopped. Duchess frowned as she looked at him, wondering why Jack suddenly sounded far more like a worried sixteen year old he had been years ago than the capable man he was today, "sorry. Don't go."

"Don't _what_?!" Duchess gasped, stunned at what he had just said.

"Oh that came out wrong," Jack said pressing a hand to his forehead, "may I come in?"

"Yes I think you'd better," she said stepping aside so he could come in. Her room was empty of anything but furnishings. Like most of the Court members a good deal of her possessions had been destroyed during the collapse of the building. What she did have had been packed away, "let me call the physician," she said, "I think you've hit your head."

"No," Jack said, "though I wish I had. it would probably make things much simpler,"he added, "the last few weeks, they have been insanity--for all of us," Duchess nodded, "and I don't understand what you did," he shook his head, "but I care about you--in spite of everything that says I shouldn't--and I don't want you to go."

"You just listed every reason I _should_ go," she said crossing her arms over her chest.

"Yes, I know--but that's every reason you shouldn't go," she still looked at him, "and I'm sorry," he added.

"For?"

"For running. For not finding a way to do what I had to do without getting you into trouble--"

"I am not looking for an apology for that," she said, her hands moving to her hips, "I do not blame you for your mother's actions," he nodded, relieved. But the relief was short lived when she glared at him, "your actions, however, I do blame you for."

"You mean the proposal," he said.

"_Yes_ I mean the proposal," she said, "and considering she obviously did not steal the ring from you, I am going to guess that you proposed to her _twice_," she said holding out two fingers. Jack looked away, "so you did propose to her twice," her eyes widened, "I'm leaving."

Jack looked at her, his heart sinking. Yes he had done those things but when she said it like _that_, it made it sound much worse. Still, in some strange way, it was both refreshing and pleasant to argue with her. She was not the type of fighter that would be any good in a physical confrontation. In a verbal one, however, Jack knew any skill he had with arguing came from the blond woman standing in front of him. But he knew he was going to have to do something drastic if she was going to forgive him--forgive him _and_ not walk out. And maybe, just maybe, let him back in.

"Yes, I gave her the Ring twice," he said, "but the first time was only to give her the Ring so it would be safe."

"And the second time?"

"The second time I did ask her to be my Queen--" Duchess opened her mouth angrily but he barreled on, "but she had just saved Wonderland! And I still did not know what to think of what you had done--" she arched an eyebrow at him, "I'm sorry," he said finally, "I'm sorry that I ignored our engagement and proposed to another woman--" he stopped, "God, that sounds awful."

"Yes," she said icily, "and it feels less than pleasant as well."

Jack let out a breath and Duchess looked away. It had hurt, when she had seen that brown haired girl standing there and _known_ that Jack calling her 'not his girlfriend' was anything but the truth. Though she knew that she had done him wrong, she did not know if she truly deserved to watch that. And then, even after she had saved him, he had proposed to the brunette. No, Duchess realized, it would be better for _all_ of them if she were to simply leave. Forget any feelings that she harbored for him, focusing on the fact that he clearly did not care about her. In spite of everything--no, no she could not think of that. Not now and, with any luck, not ever.

"I need to be on my way," she said finally, "I want to be in the City by nightfall."

Jack looked at her, his heart sinking as he realized she was serious. She really was planning to leave. Honestly though, who was he to stop her? He couldn't even pull off a decent coup without assistance. How was he supposed to possibly apologize for doing what he had--apologize in any way that she would believe? She was hurt and angry and, he realized, so was he. They had both been manipulated by their mother. The difference was that he had the entire resistance to tell him what was right and what was wrong. Perhaps Duchess had known it, perhaps she had not, either way the Queen had kept her too close for anyone to reach her. Anyone but him. And he had been too wrapped up in saving the world to notice the drowning girl next to him.

"Wait," he said, stopping her in her tracks, "you truly wish to leave?" Duchess kept her back to him as she nodded, "then you should have this," he said coming behind her and holding out the earring.

"My earring," she gasped turning around, "where did you find it?"

"Thats not important," he said quickly as she reached out and took it from him.

"I was so worried I had lost it," she said walking back over to one of the smaller of her bags and pulling out her other earring, "thank you for finding it," she added with a smile.

"Of course," he said.

Duchess slipped the earrings into her earlobes, the knot in her throat lessening at the familiar weight. She had worn the earrings for a very long time, long enough that it seemed she was almost naked when they were not there. They had been a birthday gift from the Prince sitting behind her, something he had slipped into her hand moments before they went to the formal celebration thrown by the Queen. They had survived the Truth Room, survived everything the Queen did to her after that. The familiar weight that seemed to assure her that it had not been just a dream--that _he_ had not been just a dream. Turning back around she faced the man standing in front of her, watching her carefully.

He looked every inch a King, standing there in the sparse room she had been calling her own. For the briefest moment, she wondered how he possibly could have passed for anything but a King while in that other world. But in the same breath she found herself wondering what she would possibly pass for in the City. She had to put those thoughts to the side for now. The man standing in front of her though her a manipulative creature and she knew he had chosen another over her for his Queen. They had both made mistakes, probably the greatest being their distrust of each other. But that did not seem to matter now. What was done was done and Duchess had one place to go: out the door.

"I know i have given you no reason to do so," he said, "but would you possibly consider staying?"

Duchess looked at him carefully. Moments ago she would have said no. But there seemed to be something _different_ about him, something different in his eyes. She couldn't put her finger on it, but it did make her pause and look at him. _Really_ look at him. Turning from him she quickly wiped under her eyes. If he wanted to play this card then fine, she would play the hand he dealt. Slowly she turned to face him fully, stepping around the bag placed on the floor. She stopped before she stood in front of him, looking instead around the sparse room. It was a trick, they both knew that, as she let him linger in the doubts of what could be going through her mind as she looked around the room with apparent curiosity. Behind her shoulder, she heard him swallow audibly and she knew one hand was itching to go to the tie knotted at his throat.

"That is true," she said, "but why don't you tell me why. Why should I consider staying here?" she turned around and looked at him, pleased to see signs of strain around his lips. Obviously even in her state she held some kind of power over him, "why should I consider staying with _you_?"

And suddenly she was back. _This_ was the woman he had not realized he had longed for. The woman in front of him, the one who could make any man think she was his, who could play anyone like a master playing a finely tuned instrument--this was the woman who had somehow chosen to be with _him_. He had watched the evolution of this creature, from the first bat of eyelashes to the first time he had clumsily kissed her to the first time he had broken a man's nose for daring to touch her. Suddenly the almost modest dress she wore seemed tight--as tight as the tie at his throat. He was painfully aware of the bare skin at her back, skin that hid just out of his eyesight. There was no lingering fear of him running in this woman's eyes, no threat of her running like a scared rabbit. Her eyes were not wide, nor scared, if anything was to be said about the ebony lined eyes that looked at him, it was that they _smoldered_.

"I know what you're doing," he said, finally giving in to the urge and loosening his tie.

She was showing him her most devious side, the side that made grown men weak at the knees. A side that had only been heightened in its effectiveness by his mother's wicked hand and his absence. He knew that but that did not stop him from being affected by the woman who moved in front of him.

"Do you?" Duchess asked, stepping forward.

Jack stepped back. Just enough to keep some semblance of distance between them. Duchess matched his step with one of her own until his back hit the wall of the room. Like a predator would approach her prey, she walked forward, both painfully aware of the power she held over him. Power that she had learned from a young age, power that had only been heightened by what his mother had taught her. She stood right in front of him, close enough for him to smell the perfume that she wore. One of her hands reached out, her fingers touching the lapel of his blazer. Two of her fingers walked up some invisible ladder on the cherry red fabric, up his chest, up his shoulder until they slid across his cheek. She leaned forward, her lips barely an inch from his. His head moved automatically, the motion familiar and welcome.

"Still want me to stay?" she whispered, her eyes locking with his. He heard what she did not say, did he want her to stay after everything that she had done, after everything his mother had done to her.

"Yes," he breathed, closing the last distance between them and crushing their lips together.

Though his back was against the cool plaster of the wall, he could barely feel it from the heat that pooled throughout him. She returned the kiss eagerly, the hand that lay on his cheek dropping to her side. His arm circled her waist, pulling her closer his body. Her other hand came to rest on his shoulder, her fingers digging into the fabric as they kissed. He withdrew finally, looking down at her. She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face.

"Stay," he breathed, his voice barely more than a whisper.

She nodded, her hand sliding around the back of his neck as he ducked his head and captured her lips with his own. Just as she always had, she fit perfectly into his arms. Her fingers brushed the hairs on the back of his neck as his fingers splayed across the bare skin of her spine. Her hands slid down to his chest, her fingers skewing the blazer he wore. Jack did not care about such a thing as he continued to explore the warm cavern of her mouth. The kiss was not hurried, nor was it urgent. It was an almost languid exploration, a homecoming of sorts. One that Jack, realized, had been long overdue.

They broke apart only when there was a knock on the door. Breaking apart, she leaned her forehead against his, more than happy to let the last moments of pressure on her lips linger. Jack reciprocated the movement, seemingly trying to memorize her form against his. it had not been long since he had left, but it seemed like a lifetime when what they had missed became clear. She had been in this position, a hundred dizzying times before and each never failed to steal her breath away. _This_ was what Jack had fought for, it was what Duchess had believed in, it was what they both had wanted--even sometimes without knowing it. Duchess wondered briefly if she had ever felt so safe, wrapped in his embrace, before deciding it didn't really matter. She saw no reason at all to leave it.

The knock sounded again.

"What is it?" Jack questioned, his voice less than thrilled.

"Majesty," the Club said, "my apologies but your presence is requested in the Throne Room."

"Always the Throne Room," Jack sighed. Duchess laughed, pressing a hand to her mouth, "what is it?" Jack asked.

"You're wearing my lipstick," she said, "come here," she motioned him forward, wiping his lip with her thumb, "there, now you are ready for the Throne Room."

"I don't suppose we could have them wait five minutes or so?" he said, tracing the slope of her back.

"Jack," she sighed, shaking her head with a smile, tugging his blazer into place "go," she said, "I'll be here when you get back."

He looked at her, confusion in his eyes.

"Why?" he asked.

"Isn't it obvious?" she said looking up at him.

"Even after--" he began.

"Yes," she said looking up at him. Jack opened his mouth but she pressed a finger to his lips, "I care about you," she said, "I always have. _That_ is the reason I need to stay," she smiled, a bit more deviously, "until, of course, you make it up to me."

"Something I swear I will dedicate myself to fully," he said, "along with restoring order to the Kingdom and finding a way for our two worlds to live in perfect harmony."

"Good," Duchess said, her lips curving into a smile that Jack couldn't help but reciprocate, "now go," she said fixing his tie, "your people are waiting, Maje--" he pressed a finger to her lips.

"How about you agree to never call me that again?" he suggested. She smiled but nodded.

"Alright," she said, "Jack," she added.

"Thank you," he said.

"Now, you need to go," she repeated, "i won't be the cause of your lateness," she said stepping back. He made no move for the door, "I told you, I'll be here when you get back," she looked at the bags on the floor, "I need to unpack these anyway."

"I have an idea," he said. She arched an eyebrow, opening her mouth to tell him she did not think that was a good idea but he continued, "its a good one, I promise," he added quickly.

"What did you have in mind?"

**

* * *

**

"I do not think this is a good idea," she whispered.

"You have to trust me," Jack said looking at her, "this is a good idea."

"Forgive my suspicion but the _last_ time you said that you almost got yourself killed."

"It all worked out in the end," he said.

"And I am just supposed to put faith in that for _this_?"

Jack flashed her a smile and Duchess sighed, knowing she was already sold on the idea. He extended his arm to her. Taking a deep breath, she laid her own hand on top of his. The gesture was formal, of course, but there was warmth in it when he laid his other hand on top of hers. Duchess looked at their joined hands and then up at his face. He looked at her without any sort of shame. If anything he looked proud to have her on his arm. The thought made her feel, well, it made her feel nice. It was not that she thought having his approval made everything alright, but simply that knowing the man beside her cared about her as much as she cared about him was a very nice thing.

A throat clearing drew their eyes to the Club that stood there. Ten looked at them with a look that was somehow both a combination of smugness and relief at the sight of them together.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"Yes," Jack said, squeezing her hand briefly before lowering the hand covering hers back to his side.

"Yes," she echoed, "we're ready."

"Very good," Ten said, nodding to the Suite that held the door.

He stepped forward into the room first

Jack and Duchess followed.

The room was full of courtiers. Whatever had happened was enough to force even the sleepier of them to rise. Jack felt fear churn through him. For a desperate second it seemed impossible that _he_ was expected to be the one who found a way to fix whatever the problem happening was. It was just for a moment, that blind panic moment. Usually he simply dismissed it as nothing. But this time a warm hand gently squeezed his own. He looked at the woman on his arm, the one who looked at him with the knowledge of everything he had been--who accepted everything he had been--and felt the moment of doubt vanish. He had told her they were ready and he realized, with her beside him, they were. There was no fear in him when he looked at the courtiers once more. No doubt, nothing but the firm belief that if there was a problem then there would be a solution as well.

"His Majesty, King Jack Heart of Wonderland," Ten announced, "And, Her Grace, Duchess."

Together they walked into the Throne Room.

* * *

**Okay, wow, that was WAY too much fun to write.**

**Seriously how could you not love Jack and Duchess? For like two seconds of screentime they were kind of romantic. Anyway that's it for this two shot, but if you ask me nicely, I could be persuaded to write some more for the pairing. **

**So review!**


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